Getting Her Own
by Mord-Sith Rahl
Summary: What if Bobby hadn't held Rogue back? The consequences of what might have happened had Rogue been given her little bit of revenge in X-2.


Summary: What if Bobby hadn't held Rogue back? The consequences of what might have happened had Rogue been given her little bit of revenge in X-2.

Warnings: Very Strong Language.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author's Notes: Very short little quickie. Just a thought I had to get out.

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Getting Her Own

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"We love what you've done with your hair."

For that one, brief second, all sound ceased to exist for Rogue. All she could see was that self-satisfied smirk on his wrinkly old lips and the soft chuckle that blue bitch was trying to "hide." Gone was the notion that she kind of liked the way her hair looked now, only the memory of how the white patch was obtained was important now, and the excruciating pain of the encounter played through her nerve endings despite her desperate pleas.

That. Fucking. Ass.

She was barely aware that she was slipping her glove off. Barely aware that her pupils had dilated in hate and that she took a few faltering steps toward the bastard who had almost killed her. She felt the light ghosting of fingers on her arm, contracting as if to pull her back, and she saw the start of something akin to fear in those damned grey eyes.

Time slowed down for her. Had she Wolverine's senses, she was sure she would have smelled the stench of their growing panic as she stiffened her jaw in determination, would have taken pleasure in the minute rustling sound of his clothes as they started drawing back.

In those blue-grey eyes she saw her own past fear reflected.

That was all it took to break the spell.

"_YOU FUCKING BASTARD_!" she shrieked as she flew at them, smacking her bare hand on his shocked face before anyone could stop her, a manic gleam entering her eyes as she felt his life-force flowing into her.

"Rogue, no!" she heard someone yell but she no longer cared. She felt his cohort try to grab her and vindictively yanked her other glove off with her teeth and grabbed hold. Maybe the slut should have taken to wearing clothes instead of leaving so much skin on display.

The twin life energies flowing into her was almost too much. She couldn't let go. She thought she would go insane. There were too many memories, too many chaotic thoughts, too many lives. It was too much. Too much power. Too much death. Too much everything.

With a scream, she stumbled back, knowing if she held on any longer she would go insane.

_Oh, god, what have I done?_

Collapsed to her knees, Rogue fought an inner battle, tears unknowingly seeping from her eyes as she tried to wade through the memories and psyches not her own to reach the surface of her mind. It was by far worse, so much worse, than every other time she had ever touched someone. Even when she had put Logan into a coma, and his personality had eclipsed her own, she still knew who she was.

Now she had two psyches struggling for dominance in her mind and she felt that if she did not emerge soon she would die.

"Rogue…"

She knew that voice, knew that kind touch, knew that warm scent…

"Logan," she breathed, slowly slitting her eyes open to stare into his worried face, and she found the strength to push the psyches of the others firmly at bay as she smiled up at him. "I'm okay," she murmured, having to clear her throat so that it came out more like words and less like a croak. Thank god she had never absorbed Toad or it might have been even worse.

"Rogue, what were you thinking?" he near hissed at her as he helped her to a sitting position leaning against him. When had she fallen completely over?

"I had to get my own back," she softly said trying to smirk but knowing she was failing. The groans from nearby drew her attention and she found her gaze trapped by blue-grey once again. Except, this time, she felt nothing more than mild pity. Besides the blue woman next to him, he had no one else to help him as Rogue did, and realised with a start how lonely his existence must be. She had more of his memories now, she knew what he had lost, what pain he still felt from the past.

She tried not to think about what images she had seen from the woman's. She was not yet strong enough to contemplate those.

"I'm sorry Max," she whispered, and those blue-greys widened in shock and disbelief, before clouding over as he tried to pretend he did not feel the pain she realised was so obvious now.

Logan helped her stand, and then Bobby was there, taking her other arm and trying to pretend he wasn't hurt by the fact that his voice hadn't brought Rogue around. Rogue did the only thing she could to try to soften the pain by smiling at him but knew by his own that it did no good.

She glanced over her shoulder at the pair struggling together to regain their strength and sit back up, pretending nothing had happened, completely alone in the crowded jet. She saw John move a little towards them, curiosity more than compassion in his eyes, but she had touched him too. She knew his character. The couple would not be alone for long.

Somehow, she couldn't find any fault in the hurt and angry younger mutant, just as she could no longer find fault in the hurt and angry older mutant. Sometimes you had to fall into the darkness to see the light.

She realised, as she once more caught the gaze of the grey eyes that had haunted her for so long, that in getting her own she had also managed to get a little of his too.

Perhaps one day she would be able to give it back.

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_Fin_

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Author's Note: So this totally morphed into something else. I rewrote it a couple times because nothing I wrote seemed to fit, until I wrote this version, and then I just couldn't seem to delete it and do it again. This is where I had to take it, end it, and leave it. Though not the comedy I intended, nor the dark!Rogue I imagined afterwards, I hope there is someone else out there who can appreciate this quiet understanding.


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